


What’s That Name?

by DRHPaints



Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, SNL - Fandom, Saturday Night Live, Vince Blight - Fandom, What’s That Name?
Genre: Bitch Kink, Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One Shot, Rough Sex, Sex Work, Sex Worker, Sir Kink, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, What’s That Name? - Freeform, slut kink, whore kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25910746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: Vince Blight, host of ‘What’s That Name?’ is so brazen and power-mad that he orders a sex-worker to come service him in his dressing room for some rough sex before a taping.
Relationships: Vince Blight/Original Female Character
Kudos: 7





	What’s That Name?

Strutting down the hallway, Vivianne looked at the back of the assistant’s nervous head. She guessed it wasn’t the first time he’d done this by the way he greeted her conspiratorially at the entrance of the lot, gesturing quickly with one delicate hand for Vivianne to follow and leading her through a back entrance. Once inside though, Vivianne’s presence couldn’t exactly be considered discreet. Skin-tight red dress that barely covered her round ass, thigh-high faux leather boots with six inch heels, long crimson waves cascading behind her as her hips switched, there was no doubt as to her profession. Oddly though, most of the employees who glanced up as she clicked down the tile barely registered surprise as her painted face strode past.

“Mr. Blight?” The ferrety assistant rapped lightly on the dressing room door with a gaudy gold star emblazoned with the name  _ ‘Vince Blight’ _ in large, sparkling black scroll. 

A familiar voice radiated exuberantly through the wood. “Enter!” Twisting the knob, the assistant revealed Vince Blight, sitting on a luxurious leather couch in a charcoal suit and red tie, bearing a cut glass tumbler full of some brown liquid or another, wide mouth smiling broadly.

“Mr. Blight, your, um...date...here to see you.” The assistant pronounced the word “date” as though it had quotation marks around it, but Vince seemed unfazed, standing and clapping his hands together.

“Very good, Caleb. Thank you, you may go now.”  _ Holy shit, does he really  _ talk _ like that? _ Voice rising and falling in a loudly projected sing-song, Vivianne had only seen  _ What’s That Name?  _ a handful of times when her old roommate would watch it, but he sounded exactly like he did on television. Perhaps he was just one of those performers who was always “on.”

Assistant scurrying away and closing the door behind him, Vince took a step closer to her, large hands sliding into the pockets of his expensive suit. “Well, I suppose we should take care of the business end first.” The smile seemed permanently affixed to his face and Vivianne wondered if it made his cheeks hurt. “How much?”

Vivianne shrugged. “Depends what you want and for how long.”

Piercing cobalt blue eyes trailed up and down her body in a way that could only be described in one word.  _ Lecherous. _

“Well, as for how long…” Vince shook out his sleeve and looked at his watch. “I have about two hours. And as for what I want,” Vivianne saw his eyes widen alarmingly for half a second before narrowing, Vince bringing a hand to his chin as if he were appraising, though the gesture seemed incredibly rehearsed. “What  _ can’t  _ I do?”

_ Never a great question to get _ . Vivianne considered bolting. Considered telling him to forget it and walking right back out into the balmy summer evening. But then her eyes trailed over his diamond tie pin, the Rolex watch...and she thought back to the pile of bills sitting on her kitchen counter and the landlord she’d been dodging for the better part of a week.

Sighing, Vivianne ticked off her fingers as she went down the list. “You have to wear a condom, no hitting, no kicking, no slapping, no choking, no biting, no scratching, no spitting, no pulling my hair, and again,” she looked at him intently. “You have to use a condom.” Every guy tried to get out of that one so Vivianne made a point of reiterating.

Vince nodded and pursed his lips. “But I can say whatever I want?”

“Sure.” Vivianne shrugged. The words didn’t hurt her anymore. Maybe a little in the first year, but she was Teflon at this point. 

Scratching along his sharp jawline, Vince grinned. “Very good. Well, I want to fuck you.” Those eyes roamed over her curves again and Vivianne had rarely felt this exposed so early in the process. “And fuck you hard. Hands and mouth, too.” He tilted his head. “But otherwise, nothing extra. So?”

Doing the quick mental math, factoring in the fact that his suit cost more than her rent, Vivianne shifted her weight to the other hip. “Five hundred.” When he didn’t respond immediately she worried she went too high, but Vince just raised an eyebrow, pulled a silver engraved money clip from his inner jacket pocket, and peeled off five crisp hundreds, extending them her way. 

Vivianne slipped them into her clamshell purse, retrieving a condom and tucking it into her bra before setting it on a nearby table. “Okay, so—“

But before she could continue, Vince had her pressed up against the back of the door, stormy blue eyes inches from her own, pleasant TV host smile gone, replaced with a snarl. “Get your goddamn panties off.” He growled. The presenter’s voice erased, Vince barked at her through gritted teeth as Vivianne, eyes wide, pulled up her skirt and hooked her thumb under the strings of her thong, pushing it to the floor and kicking it aside.

Seeing the scrap of fabric go flying, Vince nodded in approval. Taking both of her wrists, he slid them over her head, grasping her fragile hands between one of his sizable ones at the top of the doorframe. One Italian-leather clad shoe wedged in between her heels and kicked her legs apart, causing Vivianne to drop a little and strain on the weight of her own wrists. 

Hand creeping up the inside of her thigh, Vince’s fingers spread her apart and he began twirling around her clit, pausing to lick his fingers before returning them between her legs. Nose flaring and teeth grinding in a way that highlighted his sharp jawline, Vivianne couldn’t help but notice the pleasant scent of his cologne as Vince flattened her against the door. 

Despite her apprehensions about him, Vince knew what he was doing with his hands, supple touch coaxing her until she was slick and rocking into him despite herself. 

Dragging his nose across her cheek, Vince brought his lips to Vivianne’s ear. “You like that? Huh? You like the way I finger you, you fucking slut?” When she didn’t speak, Vince pulled back and looked at her. Narrowing his eyes, he retracted his hand, taking her chin in hand. “You better fucking answer me, or I won’t let you cum you goddamn bitch.” Fire blazing behind his eyes, Vince gave her head a little shake. “You understand me?” 

Shudder running through her, Vivianne nodded as much as she could. “Yes.”

Tipping her head to the side, Vince drew one hand down the long line of her neck and into the crevice of her cleavage, leaving streaks of her behind in his wake. “Say, ‘Yes, Sir.’.”

“Yes, Sir.” Vivianne swallowed. 

Nodding, Vince replaced his hand between her legs, rubbing her clit intensely until Vivianne heels began to rattle on the tile and her eye was twitching, panting moans escaping her. Angling himself down, Vince shoved two fingers deep inside, using Vivianne’s gravity against her as she hung from her wrists, fucking her with his hand and thumbing her clit.

“ _ Yeah, is this what you want? You want me to make you cum, you fucking whore? Huh? Answer me!” _

Whole body tensing, Vivianne’s voice came out somewhere between a cry and a scream. “ _ Yes, sir! _ ” Knees buckling and body contracting around Vince’s hand as her orgasm tore through her. Apparently Vince wasn’t concerned about the noise, because once she was able to open her eyes Vivianne saw him smirking wickedly.

Abruptly dropping her hands, Vivianne tumbled to her knees and Vince began unbuckling his belt, breath ragged above her. “You’re gonna suck me with that pretty goddamn mouth, you slut.” Vince lifted his cock from his fly and Vivianne stared for a moment. He was massive; thick, long, with the faintest drop of precum dotting the slit.  _ No wonder he’s so full of himself. _ Lifting a hand to the shaft, Vivianne wrapped her lips around the tip, but Vince swatted her hand away and surged his hips forward, burying himself in the back of her throat.

“Mmm...fuck yes.” He groaned as Vivianne choked, adjusting herself in the moment before Vince began to thrust so she was able to manage. Saliva dripped down her chin as he slammed her head into the back of the door, taking fistfuls of her auburn hair and saying over and over like a prayer. “ _ Suck me, bitch. Suck me. _ ”

Starting to speed up, Vince’s words fell away to be replaced with moans and Vivianne heard what sounded like his knuckles hitting the door above her head. 

“No, no, I still want to fuck you.” Vince panted half to himself, stepping back. Vivianne wiped the drool from her face and Vince extended a hand in a shockingly gentlemanly way. Taking it, she stood and he gripped her waist, guiding her in front of his mirror and flicking on the vanity lights. 

Vivianne was a mess. Eyeliner streaked down her face, red lipstick a gash across her face, dress bunched up around her waist. Hovering behind her, Vince, on the other hand, still looked pristine, every strand of his dark chestnut hair precisely in place and his tie pin set perfectly straight. He placed a hand on her back, guiding her down until she rested her hands on the table, spreading her legs once more with his foot.

Cock grazing the back of her thigh, Vivianne rummaged in her bra and unearthed the condom, turning around to slide it on. She always insisted on doing it herself, never trusting them to complete the task. Facing her reflection again, she felt the head of Vince’s cock wiping up and down her entrance as he bent forward, voice impossibly deep as he murmured. “ _ I’m gonna fuck you so goddamn hard. _ ”

Shoving himself inside to the hilt, Vivianne shrieked as his flesh clapped against hers. Vince’s hand hooked around and began fingering her vigorously and he pounded into her. Vivianne’s hands scrambled for purchase on the table, but there was nothing to hold onto, so she lay forward, arching her spine and pushing back against his ramming cock, whimpering in ecstasy.

“ _ Yeah, you love my cock, don’t you, slut? You love the way I fuck you. Are you gonna cum for me, bitch? Huh? Am I gonna make you cum, you whore? _ ” Vince was practically yelling and Vivianne could only imagine what his reputation was like around the office as a wide hand spanked her ass hard.

“ _ Yes, sir! Yes! Yes! _ ” Thighs glistening with her own desire, Vivianne imagined she must be staining his expensive suit, but Vince continued hammering into her without concern as she came, face down on the table, fingers splayed wide. Scooping her up, Vince brought Vivianne close to his chest, hand slithering under her dress and caressing her breast, breath hot on her neck as he continued swiveling his hips into her, hand frantically working between her thighs.

“ _ Cum for me again. Come on. Do it. Cum for me. _ ” This voice was tender, barely above a whisper, and opening her eyes Vivianne saw Vince staring at her reflection in the mirror, expression hungry as he pushed her once more into oblivion, arm reaching back to cup his sculpted jaw and body writhing against him in euphoria.

Bending her forward again, Vince’s body followed suit, curving against her and humping hard and frenetically, panting a wet spot into the back of her dress. 

“ _ Fuck, yes, yes! _ ” His voice breaking high and vulnerable as his soft fingertips dug into her hips, guaranteeing bruises tomorrow. Chest heaving against her back, Vince took a moment to recover before withdrawing, straightening himself up. Pushing her sweaty hair back from her face, Vivianne lowered her skirt and plucked a tissue to wipe away her smeared makeup before searching the floor for her panties, legs unstable beneath her.

“So,” Vince straightened his lapel. “Bet you enjoyed that didn’t you?” Vivianne just glanced at him as she gathered her purse. Now that she was free of the haze of lust, she didn’t feel particularly obligated to answer, much less call him ‘Sir,’ and his self-satisfied air as he squared his broad shoulders and tilted his head at her was infuriating. 

“Three orgasms was it?” A broad smile broke his irritatingly handsome face, and Vince’s tongue ran over his teeth. “Maybe you should’ve paid me.” Vince leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and lifting an eyebrow defiantly. 

_ Smug bastard.  _ Rolling her eyes, Vivianne opened the dressing room door and managed to find her way out of the studio and off the lot. As she emerged onto the sidewalk, Vivianne burst out laughing when she realized that despite the title of his show, Vince was one of the few tricks who never bothered to ask her name.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom


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